“That’s because we have age and wisdom. The wrinkles are proof of it.” Elizabeth’s grandmother smiled. “Good luck to you both.” Then she took Elizabeth’s hand, and the two of them said goodbye. Elizabeth chattered the whole way out the door about bowling balls and pins and the new friends they’d made.
“That was…odd.” Kate shook her head. “I have no idea what gave that lady the impression that we’re together.” Or what would inspire her to give marital advice to two people who weren’t a couple.
“Maybe it’s the bickering about the past.” Trent grinned. “Speaking of which, you didn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t?” Although she knew full well what Trent was talking about. Maybe if she played dumb, he’d move on, and she could skirt around that painful bump in their history. “You do know you’re supposed to roll the ball, not hold it, when it’s your turn, right?”
“KitKat…” He waited until she looked at him. “What did you think would happen when you and I got involved in that sea turtle thing? Excuse me…the Olive Ridley sea turtle rescue program?”
Kate shifted her weight and glanced away. Darn him for getting the name of the project right this time. Why couldn’t he have been this invested years ago? And if all this was in the past, why did it still sting so much? “I thought…I thought it would be something you and I could do together. Saving the sea turtles was something to do with the outdoors, and something to do with the environment. A middle ground between us, and between the things we were each passionate about. I thought you’d like that. But you were gone, Trent. You were always gone.”
He considered her for a long moment, then set the ball back into the return. Trent took her hand and pulled her down to the bench. They sat across from each other while pins fell and balls rolled and people cheered. “Then tell me now, Kate. Tell me everything I should know about those sea turtles.”
“Trent, you don’t care—”
“I do, Kate. I care, right now.” He touched her hand and met her gaze. As much as she wanted to look away, to leave, Kate was transfixed by his blue eyes and his touch and his honesty. “Tell me everything I missed. Because I think I missed an awful lot.”
Six
Trent wished he had an excuse for how distracted he had been at dinner and the bowling alley. Lack of sleep, malnutrition, a bout with malaria. Truth be told, it had all been Kate. Something about Kate had captivated him tonight, just as it had that day in American Lit when she’d argued that Scout’s depiction as a tomboy was a rebellion, not just against dresses, but against the societal norms of the time that silenced female voices. Kate’s spirited discussion of Harper Lee’s classic novel had so intrigued Trent, he’d gone back to his dorm and read it that night. He’d made sure to stop Kate in the hall after class so he could meet the girl who had ignited his curiosity in a course he’d intended to skate through. From that day forward, he’d started to pay attention and listen to Kate’s passionate arguments.
That passion had ignited again tonight when she’d sat across from him in the busy bowling alley and told him about the turtles. How the Seattle Aquarium was the only recognized sea turtle rehabilitation facility in the state of Washington. How the shifting ocean currents and the cold water of the Pacific Ocean stranded the turtles, stunning them into immobility with the sudden drop in their body temperature.
“The aquarium rescues the ones that get stranded,” she said, continuing her story as they bowled a few more strings. “They give them medical care, then release them back into the wild. During nesting season, the Olive Ridleys make these deep circles in the sand, lay their eggs and cover them before heading back out to sea. The aquarium has volunteers who patrol the beaches to mark off the turtle nest and protect it from curious people. When the hatchlings are born, volunteers watch to make sure the little guys make it into the water. When you see one of them struggling so hard to get over a divot in the sand, or to battle against an incoming tide, you just…” Kate sighed. “I guess you feel like saving that turtle is the most important thing in the world. The little guy is working so hard just to live, and he deserves that chance.”
“You’ve been there?” He knocked down eight pins, then waited for the pinsetter to reset. “When the babies hatched?”
She grabbed a ball and threw it down the lane. It careened off the bumpers and hit nine pins. “Every single fall. The mamas use the flippers to hollow out a nest in the sand and lay about a hundred eggs. About two months later, the babies hatch, and if we’re very lucky, we are there at just the right time to help them get to where they need to go.”
“That’s amazing.” He watched her take her second run at the pins, seeing Kate with new eyes and a renewed curiosity in this self-proclaimed bookworm, who was also one of the most multi-faceted and interesting women he had ever met. “I never knew that. About you or the turtles.”
She took his hand and opened his fingers, then drew a circle on his palm. “They’re so tiny when they’re born. They can fit right there, in the center of your palm. They are the cutest little things, with big front flippers and a shell that looks like dozens of itty-bitty blue-green bricks. They dig into the sand and push themselves forward, because somehow they know the ocean is where they need to be.” A second later, her cheeks flushed as if she’d just realized she had touched him.
“I imagine that something as small and simple as someone’s discarded soda can or a moat for a sandcastle can spell doom for the little guys?”
“Exactly. The volunteers try to keep the pathway as clear as possible, and we monitor the nests so we can try to predict when the hatchlings will be born, but every once in a while, there’s a nest that hatches when no one is there. So many hatchlings don’t make it.” She released his hand, and a flicker of disappointment ran through Trent. “It’s so sad to see, because you know they tried their hardest.”
Despite the odds and the tragedies and the challenges, Kate kept on volunteering. With that community garden, with the turtles. He liked that about her. Liked it a lot. “But it’s also what makes you come back year after year to patrol the beach and fill in the moats.”
“What can I say? I’m a softie for turtles.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s late, Trent,” Kate said as she grabbed her shoes from under the bench. “I really need to get home and start working on the book.”
Trent wanted to stay longer, but knew his phone was already blowing up with emails and texts about doing something to get good publicity and better buy-in before the public offering. With the IPO a few months away, Jeremy was panicking and telling Trent he needed to somehow boost spring and summer orders even more, to offset the losses from last quarter.